Eventually
by Jack of Blade's Daughter
Summary: The Taint. It eventually gets us all. For the lucky, it gets you right then and there. The unlucky? It festers, it thrives, it tortures our minds until we eventually go to die. FBrosca/Alistair. Warning Character death, Sad.


**First of all, I'd like to simply say thank you for actually looking at this story, wether our to curiosity or general liking of the other few stories I've made. It truly does help to know there are others out there who enjoy the small things I make.**

**Disclaimer- I do not, and I never will, own Dragon age. If I did, Varric would be a romance option in DA2!**

Suffocating

That is the word to describe the scenery around me. Now most times I try to be cheerful, witty and overall charming. Obviously I succeed, as you can guess from my already seductive techniques. Sadly, though, this is not a time for that.

Everyone stood stock still, heads bowed down, some crying, some grieving in their own minds, and others simply here out of decency.

The Darkspawn, oh why couldn't they just stay underground, I wondered always?They were the cause of all this chaos, this destruction, the death. Duncan, Cailan, and now? Now they had taken her from me.

They had taken her away and she wasn't coming back, like she'd promised.

_Yesterday_

_Alistair grunted as another Darkspawn fell before his blade, it's tainted blood spilling across the stone ground of Fort Drakon. He could feel the pull of the taint drawing him closer to the top of the tower, where he and Melissa would finally find the damned archdemon and put an end to this chaos. _

_Alistair sighed to catch his breath, not sheathing his sword for he had learned not to anymore, not here where darkspawn were around every corner, just drooling for the thought of digging into a man's flesh. Sighing in relief as he felt Wynne's magic flow over his body, healing over faded scars and fresh cuts. 'Thank the Maker for us finding her in the tower.' he thought. _

_"No time to waste Alistair, we have to go."_

_Alistair's head instantly looked up to meet the eyes of his beloved, his lover, his companion, his fellow Warden. Melissa Brosca. She was a strange dwarf, with the limited interaction he's had with them before. Melissa was reserved but not nasty, she was polite but she only spoke when spoken to. Trying to get to know her was one of Alistair's more fun past-times, as she always tried to dodge his questions with sarcastic remarks or teasingly flirting with him._

_The latter general shut him up._

_It hadn't been long after their venture in the deep roads and Orzommar, the dwarven capital and one of two remaining dwarven cities, that she had gone to him, him of all people, for comfort. Alistair, the witty but admittedly oblivious templar, had to comfort a woman. Oddly this led to awkward courtship, romance, and eventually love. _

_And now, it was sure to be ended with a swing of a sword to the Archdemon's neck, or the crunch of their bones under the Archdemon's teeth. Preferably the former. _

_Nodding, Alistair quickly stood up, sword and shield in each hand, before the great door opened to a sight. Several soldiers, all well trained and well equipped, were being slaughtered by the near titan sized dragon, blood flowing out of fresh corpses like rivers. _

_It had been a great battle too, no doubt Leliana will be singing it for years, and it may carry on the ages. But now, the moment upon them, Alistair stepped forward._

_"Wait, let me do it." he pleaded, fear evident in his eyes. But not fear of his own death, no fear for the death of his love. _

_Melissa however quickly shook her head, stubbornness written across her face. "No Alistair, I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that." she had replied. _

_Alistair just smiled, "You sound like I'm giving you a cho-" before he could finish, a dull clang was heard, and the ground came to meet him rather quickly. _

Present Time

She had sacrificed herself. She had taken his offer, his obligation, his plead, and thrown it out the window. When I had come to, I found Wynne hovering over me with a somber expression, her magic flowing over my body again. My ears could hear the distinct sound of Lesky's whimpers. That dog, she had apparently named it after a friend she had in Orzommar.

And there she was, next to the corpse of the Archdemon, cold, pale and dead.

And now, here I stand before her dead body. Still she is beautiful, even without life in her eyes and color in her skin, she is beautiful. With silent sorrow, and tears streaming down my cheek, I placed a rose, correction the rose I had given her what felt like so long ago. I placed the the rose in her cold hands, pressing them to her chest, before they took her into the coffin and carried her off.

They were going to take her to the stone, where a Paragon is befitted to be laid to rest, but I know that I'll meet her again eventually.

The taint, after all, gets us all.


End file.
